Tuesday, June 2, 2015

“I don’t hate the baby…” he said unhappily, “…I just hate what it’s done to us.”

  (Small Fry Chapter 8)

          It was hours later when my husband found me, still sitting on the trunk with the diary in my hands.  I was so caught up, I didn’t hear him come home.  But here he was, in human form once more and wearing a change of clothes.
          Declan climbed up the attic ladder as he tracked me down by my scent.  He frowned as soon as he spotted me, reading under the single light globe hanging from the rafters.  I noticed with his height and broad-shoulders, he took up more room than I did.
          “What are you doing?”  He sounded surprised.
          “What does it look like?”  I replied curtly.  “I’m reading.”
          “Why are you sitting up in the attic, reading?"  He gave a peculiar look.  "Why aren’t you downstairs, reading by the fire?” 
          I said coolly, “I’m reading my great, great grandmother’s diary.”
          “Really?”  His eyebrows arose.
          “I told you I found them the other day, when I carried the box of Grandpa’s things up here.  I found them in this trunk.”  I patted my seat. 
          He came closer to see, "Oh yeah?”
          “I found them with some old photo albums.  Grandfather must have given them to Mum, when he and Gran evolved.”  I continued.  “It probably came with the stuff we packed up, after Mum and Dad left for the continuum.  I forgot how much stuff we have up here.”
          “Who knows what's hidden away.”  He remarked, as he looked about the dust and cobwebs.  “I keep meaning to do a spring clean, but I keep forgetting.”
          I pointed out, “I think in those boxes over there, are mine as well as my parents' old baby clothes and toys.”
          “Yeah, I think my Mom also kept some baby stuff left over from Derik’s and my childhood.  They’re in those boxes in the corner.”  He nodded in another direction.  Then he frowned when he saw me squint, whilst trying to read in the poor light.   “Again I ask, why are you sitting up here, reading that?  Why don’t you bring it downstairs to read?”
          “I like it up here.”
          “It’s frickin’ freezing up here and you hate the cold.”
          “It’s quiet and it’s peaceful and I’m among family,” I said flatly.
          “In other words you’re avoiding me," his hands moved to his hips.
          I didn't look up, “You can storm around and growl and hate this baby as much as you like.  Up here, the baby and I have peace and quiet, as we spend time with other women who’ve been in my condition.”
          “I don’t hate the baby…” he said unhappily, “…I just hate what it’s done to us.”
          “Can you please stop calling her ‘it’?”   I said unhappily.        
          “I thought Elisha’s diary was on her laptop," he changed the subject.
          “Elisha’s diary IS on her laptop," I retorted, "but I’m reading the diary of Jessica Tandy, the mate of Flint Riverclaw.”
          “Flint Riverclaw?”  He recognized the name.  “Isn’t he your great, great grandfather?  Wasn’t he your Grandfather’s grandfather?”
          “Yup, Jessica had a one night stand with Flint then three days later, he tracked her down to say she was pregnant and she was his mate.”
          “You’re kidding?”  He chuckled in amusement.  “What year did this happen?”
          I answered whilst looking down, “In 1999 and Jessica Riverclaw was a diabetic, too.  Pregnancy was a risky thing for her back then, but Flint Riverclaw helped her through it.  She had to give up her job and move to Alaska, which was then seen as the middle of nowhere.  However, Flint helped her to adjust as they established a new life together.”
          Declan turned quiet for a moment or two as my words sunk in. 

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